Arden caught the scent. Her scent. It floated in the air, close to the front doors of the club. It was bright and blaring and obvious to only him. It was intoxicatingly delicious.
He put his drink down and followed it. All the way to his office. And that was when he realized that this meeting with the club's new accountant might not be as boring as he had anticipated.
Mine.
The panther growled, and Arden swallowed the growl before it reached his throat. It was guttural, low, dark, and feral.
When she turned, her face was as lovely as Arden had hoped. Her blue eyes sparkled...and those full lips. She had a heart-shaped face and long, sweeping eyelashes.
Mine.
Only mine.
He was in trouble.
Gjør som tusenvis av andre bokelskere
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.Du kan når som helst melde deg av våre nyhetsbrev.
